shades of grey

The colour of January this year.
Shades of grey.


A grey sky over Gardeners Field brings to mind the saying

Mackerel sky, mackerel sky
Never long wet, never long dry

Very true that day.

The grey guinea fowl congregate on fences or sit alone silhouetted on the top of the barns calling to their mates, too stupid to fly down to find them.

Even the little figurine for the galette des Rois had shades of grey.

The rain saturated fields have small ponds forming in low lying areas and the footpaths that were pounded by hundreds of Christmas walkers have deteriorated into a slippery muddy mess with dingy grey puddles.

But come the evening, I can light the fire and sit with a glass of hot, spiced cider with blackberry gin and bring a little colour to the day. And as I flick through the internet, I’m thankful that we haven’t been affected by the dark swirling waters that have flooded homes and marooned isolated farms and communities in some parts of the UK or that I’m not with Cecilia at The Kitchen’s Garden,  grappling with the cold icy snow of America or with Fiona at Cattle, Kids and Chaos in the hot, dry dust of drought affected Australia.


Sometimes, grey is okay.

25 thoughts on “shades of grey

  1. It’s very easy to wish for better weather, especially during a grey January. But you’re right – it could be a lot worse… and grey isn’t so bad really. It makes a good contrast to the yellow flowers and fresh green growth of a spring to come.

  2. The contrast with extremes of cold in the US and heat in Queensland make grey English January seem quite gentle by comparison. Though even grey English water can pose its challenges and be a force to reckon with where it gets too big for its boots as it were. Your blackberry gin spiked cider looks wonderful. E x

  3. Grey and muddy brown here, but it’s January and it’s how it should be. My littlest boy fell down splat in the mud tonight, but he’s been dusted (hosed!) off and all is well. How cosy it sounds by your fire — the very best place to be in the darkest part of the winter.

  4. You can’t imagine what clouds mean to someone who lives in the desert (although we’ve a few of our own here right now). I take loads of pics of clouds.

  5. Anne, I’m so happy to report 75 millimetres of glorious rain over the last twenty-four hours here in our part of the world. The joy in this house yesterday was something to behold with giggling children bouncing off walls, so all consuming is the weather to us all. Thankyou for your kindness and concern.
    PS. It would appear guinea fowl are stupid the world over!

    1. So pleased you’ve got some rain. Weather is all consuming to farmers worldwide but I don’t think everyone understands how much difference it makes to our lives or why were we’re always talking about it. Guinea fowl are so stupid that I’m amazed they aren’t extinct.

  6. I rather like grey actually. It is a soft colour, it is not as unforgiving as black. I am not overly keen on a grey sky though… but right now, the sun is shining in bonny Scotland and warming my face, I am happy. Who got to be the king on the 6th? Your galette des Rois looks yummy. The Swiss version is a sweet yeasty bake with little rolls arranged around a middle big one, the one for sharing. I forgot to bake one this year, I have been in Glasgow for too long I think. Next year.

  7. And don’t we look forward to those perfect days to make us forget the gray ones? Tell me, did you ever get released from that mud puddle or are you still stuck there?

  8. It’s funny but it’s the blog posts about English Autumn and winter that make me the most nostalgic. Grey is definitely ok (as long as it’s not 50 shades !) as you know there is the promise of green just around the corner 🙂

  9. Grey can be a melancholy color where the weather is concerned but I do like your photos. We have had a lot of days that make our part of the world look like a black and white photo.

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